Just a Dream
by WeaverofDreams45
Summary: Harry Potter drinks his woes away in the Leaky Cauldron. Why? Because the love of his life is about to marry another man. Maybe all his dreams about his life with her will remain just that; just a dream.


"And now you ain't around baby I can't think, I should've put it down, should've got the ring, 'Cause I can still feel it in the air"

Just a Dream by Nelly

Harry Potter was allegedly the bravest man in the wizarding world. So why was he in the Leaky Cauldron in his nicest dress robes mere minutes before his best friend Hermione Granger was scheduled to walk down the aisle. Sure Ron was his best friend as well, but he had been in love with her for so long now that the idea of watching her marry someone else made his stomach turn.

"Another Mr. Potter?" The new barkeep asked. Hannah Abbott had recently come into ownership of the leaky, and a young new bloke was hired to cover shifts when she was busy…and of course she was busy, it was the wedding day of Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Bilius Weasley. A happy occasion. Yet Harry wasn't happy. Ron had asked him to be his best man. After his year on the run, it became impossible to live in a world without Hermione Granger. He heard her in every laugh, saw her in every face, and smelled her in every field of grass or roll of parchment.

Harry knew, of course, that he had been a fool to tell himself to wait…to give himself more time. Time that drove the love of his life further into the arms of his best friend. He couldn't even hate Ron for it because they were just so bloody happy together.

"Yeah." Harry scratched out, his throat raw from the burn of the firewhiskey. How many glasses had he had? Three? Four? A comfortable numbness began to take hold of him, so he knew that it was not enough. "Actually, just keep them coming." He thought back to the Burrow, where Mrs. Weasley would no doubt be searching for the rogue best man. It wasn't that he wanted to ruin their wedding, it was that he didn't. How do you attend a wedding when you're madly in love with the bride?

After the war, he had been so consumed in his auror training and seeing a mind healer to fix whatever shattered remnants of his mind were left that he never made time for his own happiness. That was where everything went wrong. He still remembered the broken feeling in his chest when Ron told him that he'd asked Hermione on a date. Staring deeply into the amber liquid in his glass, he shot it back. The burning sensation of the firewhiskey the only comfort he would find that day.

Vaguely, he registered a chiming noise from above the door to his left, but he was too busy wallowing in his own self-pity to look up. Had he looked up, he would've seen a particularly angry witch. And had he looked up, he would've seen just how beautiful Hermione Granger looked in a wedding dress.

"Harry James Potter!" She nearly shrieked, and Harry startled. The bar stool underneath him jerked from under him, and he found himself drunkenly laying on the ground. Scrambling to stand, he stared at her like he must be imagining her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her hair pulled up in a loose bun, and just a tiny amount of makeup highlighting her honey eyes and pink lips. He couldn't even count how many times he'd dreamed of those lips.

"Hermione. I…What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be getting married…like right now?" Her cheeks flushed with rage as she looked at him, and it took his breath away. The air between them was charged with tension, and for one last moment, he held hope in his heart.

"I was Harry, but then Molly informed me that my best friend had gone missing. Imagine my surprise when Hannah pops into the room to tell me that her new barkeep has just served Harry Potter his second glass of firewhiskey." He could tell from her stance that underneath the cream colored floor-length gown she wore, she was stomping her foot at him. Something about her being there made him feel at home.

Shrugging off her comment, he just drained the rest of his glass of firewhiskey and frowned. "Best get you back then. Can't have a wedding without the bride." Before he could get any further, Hermione pulled her wand out of a leather holster wrapped around her thigh. Harry was too distracted by the brief look at her legs to avoid the hex she sent towards his feet.

"You are not going anywhere until you tell me why you're at the Leaky instead of the Burrow." The ferocity of her voice made his heart pang again, and he cursed the cruelty of the world. If he couldn't have her, at least don't flaunt it in front of him.

Harry wasn't certain if it was the fourth glass of firewhiskey or his utter exhaustion at pretending that made him say what he did next, but nonetheless, they were both surprised at the words that came out of his mouth. "I'm at the Leaky because I can't bear to watch the only woman I've ever loved marry someone else." The words felt like acid coming up his throat, and he averted her gaze immediately. He'd never said it out loud before. Not in the decade that it had been true. No one in the world knew his secret…well no one now except Philip the barkeep and Hermione Granger.

Hermione, for her part, stared at him with her mouth agape. It was a look he had only seen on her a handful of times, but Hermione Granger was actually speechless. The air around them was somehow even more charged than before, and Harry cursed himself for ruining Hermione and Ron's big day. "Look 'Mione, just forget I said that. Let's get you back to Ron and get you crazy kids married alright?" Pulling his own wand from the secure pocket inside his right sleeve, Harry cast a quiet finite on his feet before looking up at where Hermione seemed to be overthinking something.

Biting her lips in the way she always did when she was nervous, Harry took a deep breath. He really had mucked this all up. Taking a step towards her, he stopped when suddenly Hermione's wand was in the air.

"_Expecto Patronum_." Out of the tip of her wand, silvery mist began to flow, slowly forming in the shape of an otter. He had always thought her patronus was just as cute as she was, and he chastised himself for his thought. "Tell Ronald that I am deeply sorry but I can't marry him." A second after her message was finished, the otter nodded and swam out the door.

"No…Mione…you can't…Ron will be devastated." Harry knew he was rambling, but he needed to fix this. They didn't deserve to have their lives ruined like this. But then something in the air changed again, the charge shifting from anger to something lighter…more enticing.

"Yes. He will probably." She sat on the barstool directly to his left and held up her hand for a glass of firewhiskey. Motioning for him to sit back down next to her, Harry begrudgingly complied. This had not been what he had wanted. However, he was also acutely aware that this was the first alone time he'd spent with her in months, and he missed her so much. The sound of her voice, the smell of her hair, the way that she moved…if only for a moment, he wanted to be alone with her. No matter how selfish it made him. His fingertips burned slightly when he brushed his hand against hers briefly when accepting another glass of the amber liquid. _It must be the firewhiskey_, he thought.

Sighing deeply, he eyed his now fifth glass of firewhiskey and turned to face her. "You can't throw away your life because I'm a bastard. I didn't fight for you, so you loved someone else. Please…" His voice broke as he turned away from her, uncertain if he could hold off the tears. "Please just be happy."

"Harry…" Hermione began, her petite hand connecting with his before it traveled to his cheek. "I have loved you since I was 11. You were the brave boy who saved me from a mountain troll. I just…I never knew you ever saw me as more than a friend. Yes Ronald will be upset, but Merlin I am so in love with you Harry Potter."

Her confession took several moments too long to process, and even then, he was stuck staring with his jaw hanging wide at the witch in front of him. Her cheeks blushed bright red under his continued intense gaze, and eventually she withdrew her hand. Desperately longing for the heat of her touch, Harry did the only thing he could think of in that moment and slammed his lips down on hers.

Her lips were as soft and as warm as he'd always imagined them to be, and there was a fire that burned through his fingertips as he placed his hands on her shoulders. The air around them nearly crackled as their magics flowed. Nothing in his entire life had ever felt as right as this. None of his kisses with Ginny or Cho had quite managed to take his breath away like the brilliant witch sitting next to him now.

"Please tell me this is real." Harry pleaded as they broke apart, both panting for breath. "Please tell me this isn't just a dream." The fire from her skin stilled burned at the tips of his fingers, and he was certain that it wasn't the firewhiskey now.

"It's not just a dream." Hermione agreed, her lips capturing his once more. No, most definitely not just a dream.


End file.
